Fullmetal Alchemist: the cost of empathy
by Twisteria Lullubee
Summary: Everyone has the potential for good and for evil,even the most empathetic creature can be driven to do horrible things. Words of god can be tainted so easily with hate. Something that was thought to be used for only destruction can be used to rebuild. Oc centered, light ocXed, Death, violence and cussing, M to be safe.long chaps   I suck at summaries but the story is worth reading
1. Ryulbury

Ryulbury

The Elric brothers sat together in a well decorated train cart.

The elder brother, Edward, was fast asleep, spread out in the seat on the right; his golden hair pulled into a braid and his red coat carefully laid over him by his younger brother, Alphonse.

Alphonse sat in the seat across from Ed's and had been watching him sleep for some time now. Long enough to see the drool in his mouth pool and run over the side into the cushion he lay against.

Ed made a soft noise in his dreams, catching Alphonse's attention. He realized then that was the most interesting thing his brother did when he slept.

"I should probably find something else to focus on," he murmured. Then sighed deeply and looked out the train window, past his armor reflection and at the placement of the sun on the horizon. It must have been some time late afternoon, but it didn't surprise Alphonse at all that his brother was still sleeping like a bear; the excitement of the possibility of them finding a philosopher's stone had kept him up late the night before, despite the fact of it being a long shot.

They were going on a rumor about a priest that started a rumor about a family of heretics, (alchemists) who had a powerful but evil object (the philosopher's stone, the assumed) that they used to overrule the laws of god in a little town on the edge of the country they had never before heard of. _Overrule the laws of god,_ Alphonse thought, _that's what he and his brother were trying to do since he was eleven._

But Alphonse couldn't afford to get his hopes up too high on such a slim chance. He looked down at his armor hands, he had a lot more to lose than Edward if they were wrong.

Al glanced down at his brother sleeping peacefully once more. After they found a philosopher's stone he would never have to spend another morning like this, cold, unfeeling and completely alone.

One long, boring and lonely half an hour later of Al sitting silently in his thoughts (that wouldn't look at all interesting in print) the train came to a screeching stop. Since Al wasn't focusing on the train he was startled greatly by the sound.

He took a moment to recover before going over to his brother and gently shaking him.

"Brother," he said.

Ed was unresponsive.

"We're here," added Alphonse.

Edward shot out of his seat faster then a speeding bullet and went over to the window, but before looking out of it he turned his head to Alphonse, "How long was I out?"

Al almost burst out laughing.

"What is it?" asked Edward.

Al didn't answer, but in truth he was snickering at the imprint of the embroidered floral pattern of the train cart cushion Edward bore on his cheek from laying against it so long. I took him a long moment to come down from from his laughter enough to answer Ed's first question, "Long enough."

Edward brushed off Al's snickering with a dulled expression before turning his head back to the window.

He wiped the condensation of with his sleeve (though his warm, moist breath alone was enough to create more) and peered out it; he was instantly delighted by what he saw. It was snowing heavily, but since the sun was still shining bright the fallen snow would melt and refreeze into ice, leaving a diamond blanket over the cheerful homes and landscapes.

"Snow!" Edward exclaimed joyfully, "Actual snow!"

He pulled on his coat, grabbed his suit case and practically flew off the train, Alphonse chasing after him. At least, at this point, there wasn't any sort crowd of people left on the train to cut through.

Of course, the moment they got off the train Edward got a reality check. The second his boot hit the actual icy ground of the north he fell on his butt. For running in the north, even if there isn't a big crowd around, is a foolish gesture.

"Brother!" Al exclaimed and went over to him (slowly and carefully), "Are you alright?"

Ed stood and brushed the snow off his buttocks, "Fine," he replied, "just a little bruised."

"You know, brother, it's really not a good idea to run like-" said Alphonse.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," interrupted Edward, dismissing Al's advice with a gesture before pulling his map from his coat. He unfolded it with care and compared the landscape shown on it to the one of the town.

"Wait," he scratched his scalp, he closed the map partially and got a better look at the town, "Al are you sure this is the last stop?"

"Positive," said Al, "it only goes south from here."

Ed looked at his map again, "But, this isn't Ryulbury."

The train conductor was doing doing some basic maintenance when he over heard them, he tucked away his wrench in his tool belt and sat down on the steps going into the train, "You boys are going to Ryulbury?"

"Yeah," said Edward, turning his head to the dirty middle aged man, "why do you ask?"

The conductor looked over them closely, a tall man in a suit of armor and a little boy in fancy white gloves, long well kept hair, and, worst of all a flashy red coat with a symbol typical of an alchemist on the back.

"You boys got a relative up there or something?" he asked.

_At least that way they'd have someone to protect them._

"No," they replied.

"Good luck," scoffed the conductor, spitting out the tobacco he'd been chewing.

Ed and Al exchanged curious glances.

"Anyway," said the conductor, clearing his throat, "this is as far as the train goes. No trains go into Ryulbury, but it's about a mile northeast from here."

"Thanks, but-" began Edward, but he was interrupted by the sound of the train doors closing and the train itself going back on the tracks.

They stood there, watching it.  
>"What do you think he meant by 'good luck'?" asked Edward.<p>

Al shrugged his broad, armor shoulders.

The train conductor watched the silhouette of the two boys disappear behind the falling snow through a train window. He looked away, _Those poor fools._

After the train disappeared behind a mountain Edward tucked the map back into the pocket of his coat.

"Well," he said stretching out since he'd spent the majority of the morning in a very unhealthy position, "if Ryulbury is a mile from here we should probably get going."

He ran off in a burst, Al went after him once more.

"Slow down, brother! You're going to fall again!"

Ed looked back, over his shoulder and told Alphonse to shut up, but to do so he had to take his eyes off his footing. He slipped on the ice again and slid into a tree, the impact knocked the snow off the lower branches.

Edward lay on the ground, under about a foot of snow.

"Maybe we should hail a cab," he suggested after spitting up a bit of snow.

"Told ya'," said Alphonse.

"Shut up!" shouted Edward. The force of his voice caused more snow to fall from the tree until only a little strand of his gold hair could be seen.

Alphonse laughed before helping him out of the snow.

"Are you sure we should hail a cab?" he asked Ed, "I mean, that might take a while."

"Come on, Al," said Edward with a confident smile, brushing the snow off himself, "how long could it take?"

Later...

"WE'VE BEEN SITTING HERE FOR OVER AN HOUR!" exclaimed Edward in impatience and boredom, "And we still haven't seen a single car!"

"That's what I was trying to tell you," said Alphonse, trying to keep frustration out of his tone, "I don't think cars work this far north."

Edward's face dropped, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried!" snapped Alphonse, but before their fight could ensue he caught sight of a horse drawn cart.

"Hey," he said, "maybe he'll give us a ride."

Edward made a face, "In his cart?"

Al stood up, "Beats walking," he said and started to go over to the front of the cart.

Edward shrugged, "When you're right you're right," he said. He got up as well and went after Alphonse.

By the time he reached him he had already gotten to the driver.

"Excuse me, sir," said Alphonse, waving his hand to catch the driver's attention, "but could you give us a ride?"

The driver smiled kindly, "Sure, where are you boys headed? Briggs?-Drachma?-"

"Ryulbury," panted Edward.

The driver's smile disappeared instantly, "Why on earth would you want to go there?"

"It's a secret," said Edward hastily putting his arm out in front of Alphonse before he had a chance to tell the old driver the truth.

The driver gave them a suspicious cross glance before looking away, "Fine," he said very reluctantly, "get in the back. I'll take you to the village's outer limits, but that's as far as I go; from there you're on your own."

"Thank-you," said Alphonse as Edward went to the back of the cart. Then went after him, but they were both startled once they had looked under the tarp that covered the cart.

"Sheep!" Ed exclaimed, startling the sheep so their bleating only got louder.

"Beats walking," said Alphonse again before getting up into the cart.

Edward shielded his nose and mouth before fallowing, resting on the side by his brother.

He thought about the driver's original question as he heard him snap his whip and felt the cart pull off,

_'Where are you boys headed? Briggs?-Drachma?-'_

_Drachma, _he thought, the cart driver had offered to take them out of the country, but he didn't seem to want to go any where near Ryulbury, _Even if no one down south had never heard of it it seemed pretty infamous among the people who actually lived up here._ It made him wonder what kind of place were he and his brother headed to.

The trip into Ryulbury only took about a half an hour, but to them it seemed to take hours. Especially for poor Edward, who was truly beginning to loath sheep. They wouldn't stop bleating during the whole trip and one of them peed on his leg.

"Thanks for the ride, sir!" Al said politely to driver as he and his brother got off the cart.

"You're welcome," said the cart driver, his smile finally returning, "just be careful inside Ryulbury, okay?"

"Sure thing," said Alphonse.

The cart driver looked them up and down, "In fact, I suggest a change in clothes."

"Why?" asked Edward.

"That kind of apparel isn't exactly welcomed with open arms in Ryulbury."

"Okay," said Edward, a bit confused.

"Well," said the cart driver, "I must be off."

He snapped the reigns of his cart, the horse galloped off, pulling the cart behind.

"Thank goodness," Edward released his breath after the cart was out of smell shot, "we're finally away from those horrible sheep."

"It wasn't _that_ bad," said Alphonse.

"Easy for you to say," remarked Edward, "you couldn't smell them."

Edward tugged on his collar and looked over his apparel, "Where do you think we could get some new clothes?"

Al looked over the town; it was completely different from the town the previously visited. It was a bleak place, the buildings were crumbled and no people were on the streets. The only well kept buildings as far as they could see were a huge church and a neighboring factory that made the snow itself grey.

"I don't know," he said, "this entire place seems abandoned."

"There!" said Edward suddenly, pointing at a little shop sandwiched between two larger, but more crumbled buildings.

"Let's check it out," said Edward and he ran off into the shop, but for the first time he didn't fall on his butt.

Alphonse shuffled behind him, sighing; when he finally got into the shop Ed was already holding shirts to his chest and reviewing the in a mirror.

"Everything's so dull," he remarked.

Al shrugged, "When in Rome.

With those words the shop keeper caught sight of him and was a tad unsettled by his size and his armor, "Who-who's your large friend?" he asked Edward.

"Huh?" said Edward, for he had very much been focusing on the look of the clothes in the mirror, "Oh, that's my little brother, Alphonse."

The shop keeper looked back over at Alphonse, who waved, _Little-?_

Edward took a bundle of clothes and went over to the changing rooms, "I'm going to try these on," he told Alphonse, "wait here."

He went into the the changing room, leaving Alphonse alone with the shop keeper. And the way he kept looking at him made him very uncomfortable.

"Is there anything I can get you, sir?" the shop keeper asked him hesitantly, rubbing his arm very awkwardly.

"No, I-I'm good," said Alphonse, he pointed to the changing rooms, "besides, we're mostly here for him."  
>The shop keeper nodded thoughtfully and walked away.<p>

A few moments later Edward stepped out of the changing rooms. He was dressed in beige pants with brown suspenders and a loose peasant shirt.

"How do I look?" he asked.

"Boring," remarked Alphonse.

The shop keeper's opinion, however, was completely contrary, "A vast improvement, even if I do say so myself," he went up to Edward and fixed his crooked collar, "it's a bit big on you though."

Edward's face flushed red hot but he tried hard not to yell at the ignorant shop keeper, "I'll grow into it."

"If you say so," said the shop keeper before going over to the front desk.

After he had calmed down a bit Edward went over to the desk and bought the clothes he had tried on.

It was Al's turn to find some 'normal people' clothes. He tried on a hat and tie, but a dressed up suit of armor is still a suit of armor.

"Maybe if you took the armor off-" suggested the shop keeper.

"I can't," said Al hastily.

"Why?" asked the shop keeper.

"It's a part of my training-" began Alphonse until he noticed Ed's rapid gestures from behind Edward.

_Oh, right! _remembered Alphonse, _Ed doesn't want anyone to know we're alchemists. That excuse won't work here._

The shop keeper was a tad confused, "What?"

Al thought for a moment until he got ea new idea, "I've got really bad burn scars all over my body, it's really humiliating," he removed the hat and tie and handed them to the shop keeper, "but, you're right, this does just look silly."

He handed them to the shop keeper and started to go over to the door with Ed.

"Oh, well," said the shop keeper, hanging the tie and hat up, "thanks for your business."

"You're welcome," said Edward hollowly before leaving with his little brother, the clothes he had been wearing before tucked in his suit case.

"Weirdos," muttered the shop keeper to himself after they had left.

"Well," said Edward, "now that we have the proper attire we can check out the church."

"That's if they're still open," said Alphonse, "it is pretty late."

They arrived at the church.

"Let's check," suggested Edward, he ran up the frosty steps- he slipped once, but recovered before looking through one of the stain glass church windows.

"It looks open," he said, "the lights are on."

"I don't know," said Alphonse, "I'm not getting a good vibe from this place."

"Of course you are," said Edward, pulling back from the glass, "if you weren't it couldn't be a church."

He meant that as no insult to Al, and he knew it. In fact Alphonse knew _exactly_ who Edward was trying to insult with those words.

They went into the church slowly and hesitantly like the outsiders they knew they were. The place had seemed usual enough from the outside; it was a large building the color of ivory with the stained glass windows and a black tiled roof covered in snow- but the inside, that was a different matter all together. It looked _almost _normal, but the atmosphere was more than a tad unsettling.

The room they came into was dimly lit orange by oil lamps that intensified the eyes of the pictures and statues of their god they had hung everywhere, gawking down at the two brothers with the eyes of judgement.

And they weren't the only ones, the moment the Elric brothers walked in everyone stopped and stared directly at them.

"Okay," said Al slowly, a bit frightened.

"Don't let it bother you," said Edward through the teeth of a forced smile, "just keep smiling."

He went up closer to the priest.

"Easy for you to say," murmured Alphonse before walking slowly after him, (it's disrespectful to run in

a church) the eyes of the church goers unblinkingly piercing through them.

The priest closed the holy book he'd been reading aloud from as they approached him. He was a tall, surprisingly young man with short blond hair, standing charismatic and proud on a pedestal above all of his followers.

_Including us, _thought Edward, the very idea of it made him shudder.

"Ah," said the priest, returning the holy book to his robe's inner pocket, "we have new comers to the church."

"We are-" began Edward.

The priest raised his hand in a stop motion, "Hush, boy," he said slowly, "there's no need for that, only enemies of god have names here. Now are you two enemies of god?"

_Yes, _thought Edward, of course, he didn't say that, if he did they would probably kill them both and use their blood to baptize children; not a favorable scenario.

"No."

"Then you no longer need names, you are a part of us and the great lord himself," he looked into the small mirror above him like the light coming from it was more than just a reflection from the lamps around him.

_Some how I doubt that, _thought Edward.

"From this moment forward," continued the priest, looking down from the mirror, "you shall be known as 102 and 103."

"Which ones which?" asked Alphonse.

"It does not matter," said the priest, "the number just means you are one of us. It has nothing to do with who you are."

He'd never admit it to his brother, but he was a little hurt, "Oh."

the priest lifted his holy book up, in front of his face again, "What do you truly hope to gain from this venture?" he asked them.

Neither of them were truly prepared for that question, but Al, in his honest innocence almost told him the truth, Edward cut him off just in time.

"Just god and religion," he said.

"What?" murmured Al.

"And how long will you be staying with us?" asked the priest.

"As long as it takes," said Edward with a smile. _That was true enough_.

"Well, if that turns out to be a long time I have to ask you, 103," he set down his holy book, "to remove your helmet."

_So that's which one I am, _thought Al, "I'm sorry, Father, but I can't do that."

"It's disrespectful to wear something associated with combat in the presence of god," said the priest.

"I know, but..." Al rubbed the back of his helmet, "I have burn scars all over my body- my face especially, it's really embarrassing and disgusting to look at. It would probably upset the other members of the church."

The priest made a soft noise deep in his throat, almost a growl, "Very well, take a seat and we'll continue."

"Where?" asked Al, "All the seats are already taken."

That they were, but the church hadn't been over crowded until they intruded upon it, it had been at the exact capacity, not one over or under- not until they intruded.

The priest chuckled softly, "Of course!" he exclaimed, slapping his forehead, "Number three, could you please get out a couple of chairs for 102 and 103?"

A girl in the front row, 'number 3' stood up and bowed in the manner of a servant, "Yes, Father Malik," she said and walked off.

_How come he gets to keep his name? w_ondered Edward, although, he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

The girl, 'number 3' returned a moment later with two fold out chairs and they were finally able to get a good look at her; she was a small girl with flaxen ponytails, deep brown eyes and other soft features, in a small summer dress despite the cold, she looked like the sort of innocent half grown boys dream of but never get.

She set the fold out chairs up, gesturing Edward and Alphonse to sit with a small hand before returning to her own seat. They were a bit hesitant to listen, though.

"Go on," said Father Malik, "take a seat."

Ed and Al obeyed.

"Does anyone remember where we left off?" asked Father Malik.

Number 3's hand shot up.

"Ah, yes, number three, where did we leave off?" asked Father Malik.

Three lowered her hand an mechanically replied, "We were discussing the heretics of the world."

Pretty though she may be, Edward knew she was no different than anyone else in this church.

"Correct," said Father Malik as if he'd known the answer all along and only wanted to check if they were paying attention, "we discuss them often because they are everywhere," his cheerful- even if a tad

disturbing demeanor darkened instantly, "we live in a country of heretics."

Ed's eyes widened, only then did he truly begin to realize the type of church he and his brother had trapped themselves.

The other church goers clapped in agreement with Father Malik.

Al hesitantly raised his hand.

"Yes, 103?" asked Father Malik.

"I-umm... I was just wondering what you meant by that."

"We live in a country that rewards people's choosing of the devil's path in the form of paying state alchemists for their tainted research," recited the priest.

The other church goers booed as they always did, Edward and Alphonse, however, only sat there.

"Alchemy distorts things from there original form," Father Malik continued his rant, "the form which god intended! And who else would want that but the devil?"

"No one!" shouted the voices of the daily church goers.

_Isn't it disrespectful to shout in church? _Thought Edward, grinding his teeth.

"Right!" said Father Malik, "And some alchemists even have the sheer arrogance to try and mess with the most sacred of all god's creations, the human body. They commit human transmutation and pay no cost for it.

_No cost? _Edward squeezed his auto mail knee so hard that even through his pants it cut into his hand, _NO COST?_

Edward thought about the night he and his brother committed the taboo of human transmutation. They

weren't devil worshipping heathens as Malik seemed to think; they were two scared little boys who wanted their mommy back, for she had died of illness. Ed and Al used alchemy to try and bring her back to life, but they failed. The thing the created... wasn't even human, and even that failure came at a great cost. In order to create that creature Ed's leg was taken and Al... But the most precious thing they lost that night was their innocence. They knew the truth and the were damned, they would never be able to return to being little boys again...

And there Father Malik stood, acting as if he and every other alchemist who had made that choice enjoyed it!

Edward had to lower his head to prevent the father from seeing the look of anger and hatred that came across his face with those thoughts.

"Some people," said father Malik, "and even a few select churches will tell you that alchemy is only evil when used for evil purposes, they are all wrong. What I am telling you is the only truth, there are no good reasons for distorting god's plan."

_Even if his plan is to let everyone die and ruin your life? _wondered Edward.

"All alchemy is the same, as are all alchemists and each and every one of them has damned themselves

forever."

Edward had closed his eyes, trying to shut out his surroundings as much as possible, but he forced himself to look up when father Malik started to give out specifics.

"Our own Violet Flamel is proof of this, alchemy has brought her family nothing but misfortune," he said, "the Flamel family has lived here for 7 generations and each has left more destruction in their wake than the last-tell me, is that something are god could ever forgive?"

"NO!" everyone around Edward and Alphonse shouted together.

"Violet herself lives alone, away from the church and away from god, because she desperately fears them both."

_I can't imagine why, _thought Edward sarcastically, _they both are so kind to her._

"But can we truly blame her?" asked father Malik, "All alchemists fear god, so it shouldn't surprise us that someone who has the amount of Satan himself pumping through her veins in place of human blood

from her murderous forefathers," hate became an ugly expression glued on his once inviting face, "I think it's safe to say no amount of holy water could wash the blood off her hands. For she, like all other alchemists has the hands of the devil."

Al noticed early on the anger swelling in his brother, but didn't dare to confront him for fear something as small as tapping his shoulder would set him off. But at this point, as father Malik droned on with his rant about alchemists being the devil's friends and family Ed looked less than a degree below his boiling point. So Alphonse set his hand gently atop his and when he looked up at him he gave him a nod to remind him to stay calm. Edward returned his nod to tell him that she understood.

Both Edward and Alphonse managed to survive the rest of the sermon without loosing their tempers, but they were both shaking.

Around seven the sermon had ended and the church goers began to leave, Edward and Alphonse included.

"Three," said father Malik, "could you help and clean up before you go?"

Three stopped walking and bowed, "Yes, father Malik."

She got down on her hands and knees and began to clean, drying the carpet of melted snow with a small cloth and using the water to rinse off the soot stains. Ed and Al walked past her as they were leaving. They were talking to each other, having a simple little conversation-_wait, what did 102 just say?_

"It took every ounce of my will not to use my alchemy."

3 gasped smally, watching them out of the corner of her eye until moment they had left the church. The second they were out she stood up and ran over to father Malik.

"What's got you so spooked, 3?" he asked her.

She knew it was disrespectful to grab a priest in such a manner, but she grabbed father Malik by his collar, pulled him close to her and whispered, "102 and 103 are alchemists!"

The father's eyes widened and his expression hardened, "I see."

Edward and Alphonse were half way down the church steps when father Malik burst through the church doors.

"102, 103!" he said loudly but friendlily, they turned around when they heard his voice, "may I speak to you two alone for a moment?"

"Sure," said Edward, "I don't see why not."

Father Malik smiled.

He lead the two brothers to a room hidden behind a tapestry in the main one where he held his usual sermons, it contained nothing but three chairs, a flickering fireplace and a small metal table with a basket of wood beside it.

"Have a seat," said father Malik.

Ed and Al hesitantly obeyed.

Father Malik sat down himself after whispering something into three's ear that made her eyes widen with horror, but then, as usual, she bowed and left to do his bidding.

Edward cleared hit throat to brake the awkward silence, "So, father, what did you want to talk to us about?"

Father Malik grabbed some kindling from the basket beside him and threw it into the fire, "You two seemed especially affected by today's sermon."

"We're just new to some of your church's customs," said Edward hastily.

"I imagine so," muttered father Malik.

"Huh?" asked Ed.

"Nothing," said father Malik. He rubbed his brow with his fingers anxiously, "So," he said "where are you two boys from? I haven't seen you around Ryulbury before."

"Well, we're actually from the south," said Alphonse.

"And what brought you this far north?" asked father Malik.

Ed and Al looked at each other, "What's this all about?" asked Edward.

At that moment three returned holding a branding stick, a daunted look in her brown eyes.

"A distraction," replied Father Malik slowly as Ed and Al were seized from behind by two muscular men. He stood up, laughing cruelly, "did you really think you could fool me? Messenger of god!"

He patted Edward's cheek.

Edward immediately began to squirm in his holder's grip, now that father Malik knew the truth he didn't have to hold back.

"Messenger of god!" he shouted, "Preaching hate to children? Forcing people to give up their identities? How come is it, that you, the person supposedly closest to god, get's to keep your name?"

For a moment Father Malik did nothing, but then he smacked Edward so hard with the back of his hand that his head snapped back. 3 winced, but didn't dare to come out of her corner and face father Malik for what he was doing.

"I didn't keep my name, you filthy heretic!" said father Malik, "I was the first priest's assistant, and for most of my life I was referred to as number 2, until the last priest was slaughtered by the likes of you creatures,"-at that moment he smacked Ed again, so hard this time blood ran down his mouth, three clutched and twisted the bottom of her dress-"I took his name and became the new priest, so that my master could live on through me."

"You mean so you could take revenge on all alchemists for what happened," mumbled Edward, panting softly from the physical abuse, "I wish I could say I didn't believe it... Using a real family to justify your religious doctrine."

"Trust me," said father Malik, he walked over to number three and yanked the branding stick from her nervously clenched hands, he then walked over to the fire and stared at it a long moment before sticking the tip of the branding stick into it, "there is nothing real about Violet Flamel or her heretical family."

"Please," said number three softly, stepping forward and finally daring to speak her mind, "he's only a child."

Father Malik had said something similar to his master once in a similar set of circumstances, _She's only a child._

The very thought that he could have been so naive made him utterly furious, "It doesn't matter!" he screamed at 3, "Children can serve the devil as well as adults!"

"But, father-"

"Shut up!" he swung at her so hard he sent her to floor, sobbing.

The cross shaped tip of the branding stick began to glow bright red from the heat of the fire. Father Malik pulled it out and made a gesture with his head to the men holding Edward and Alphonse.

The one holding Edward tore his shirt up at the neck, showing the seam of his auto mail arm where it connected to his shoulder. The one holding Alphonse jerked off his helmet, he let go immediately afterward. Father Malik gasped, 3 screamed.

"The armor's empty!"

That it was, for the cost Alphonse had payed to create the creature that was supposed to have been their

mother was his entire body. In fact, the only reason he was still around at all was because Edward had sacrificed his right arm to save him; he drew a seal with his own blood to bond Al's soul to a suit of armor.

Edward pulled away from his holder who was shocked by the empty armor, "Do you see the cost of human transmutation now, Malik?" he asked.

Father Malik only stood there, the branding stick in his right hand, his mouth open wide, shaking all over.

"Demons!" he screamed suddenly and swung his branding stick at Edward. Al grabbed him and took the brand himself- he couldn't feel it without a proper body anyway. As he did that Edward slipped out of his brother's arms, coming around quickly as he gave father Malik a hard right hook in the face- this hurt especially because that fist was auto mail, solid steel, knocking him into the carpet.

"And by the way," Edward said to father Malik in the few moments before he passed out, "my name is _not_ 102," he smirked, "it's Edward Elric, the fullmetal alchemist, enemy of god!"

As Edward did that, Alphonse went past the two men who had seized him and his brother and over to number three, who hadn't left the floor or stopped weeping since father Malik struck her.

"Are you okay?" Alphonse asked her.

On hearing his voice 3 sat up and backed away until she hit the wall.

Alphonse walked up to her in the most gentle and nonthreatening way one can when they are in a open, empty suit of armor, "I wasn't going to hurt you, I just wanted to know if you were-" he reached down to help her up.

She batted his hand away and shielded her face,"Stay away from me!"

"But I-" began Alphonse, until he caught sight of his own reflection in her eyes. At that moment he could see himself through her eyes, he hated it.

"C'mon, Al," said Edward, suit case in hand he tossed Al his helmet, "she isn't worth it."

Al looked at three again, weeping harder than ever, before putting on his armor head back on his shoulders, sighing, "No, I suppose she's not."

He stood up and started to leave the backroom, once they were a decent distance number three crawled along the floor to father Malik. She studied his face closely, cradling her unconscious abuser in her lap, the tears still flowing. Questions racing through her mind: Why did it have to be like this? Why was the father like this? Who could she blame? There was an answer to that question.

Ed and his brother were almost out of the room when they heard a harsh voice behind them.

"You!"

They made the mistake of looking back, it was number three, of course. Her eyes were still tear filled but glazed over with hate. Edward looked away.

"Look at me you filthy heretic!" shouted number three, "This is all your fault! It's you alchemists who made him like this! Who made him angry, who made him hate!"

Edward's eyebrows furrowed, he resisted the urge to fling insults back, "Is that what you really believe?" he asked, his voice low.

"Of course!" she shouted, "Because it's true! Father Malik was right all along about you, all of you! He said that you're inhuman, that you don't value human life. Well, just look at yourselves! You aren't even human anymore!"

Al gasped, Edward's pupils dilated with anger, his voice actually shook, "If that's what you really believe, then your hopeless."

With those words he left the church with his brother, leaving the priest unconscious, the missionaries whimpering and the priest's assistant, three, teary and fuming.

_Just another typical day at the church, _thought Edward as they went down the last church step and into the icy road.

"Now let's get that awful thing off your back," said Edward, Alphonse turned around, showing the cross father Malik had singed into his armor.

Edward pressed his hands together, then to Al's back, transmutating the metal thinner to smooth out the mark.

"That's better," said Edward, he pulled away, opened his suit case and pulled out his bright red coat and put it on to cover the dull clothes he'd only put on to fit in- _only_ to fit in.

"Well," he said, "one good thing did come out of this."

"What?" asked Alphonse.

"We've got a name now," replied Edward, "Violet Flamel, she's the only name Malik gave so I assume the rumors are about her."

"I suppose," sighed Alphonse, he looked over at the sun, "you know, brother, it's getting late, we should probably get a hotel room and look for her in the morning."

Ed nodded in agreement and off they went, but the only thing they could find within a mile radius outside of Ryulbury was a little, run down, motel. They checked in, the manager was a tad surprised that they wanted a room with just one bed but said nothing. As judgemental as he was, business was business, even if it was to a pedophile gay couple.

Once they were in their room Edward shuffled straight to bed, this was probably for the best because his surroundings were revolting.

"Good night, Al," he said to Alphonse before turning off the light, kicking off his boots and collapsing into bed.

"Good night, brother," said Alphonse softly.

Edward thought about father Malik again, _And some alchemists even have the arrogance to commit human transmutation and pay no cost for it._

_No cost,_ thought Edward, _that's a laugh. _ He closed his eyes and his mind slid directly into reliving that night.

He remembered adding the ingredients that make up a human body onto the transmutation circle. Then he and Al, when they were still just little boys, cut open one of their fingers and let the blood drip onto the middle of the transmutation circle, for they both had the D.N.A. of their mother.

"You ready, Al?" he asked his little brother.

"As I'll ever be," said Al.

And they did it, they pressed their hands together and then to the transmutation circle, but the light from the transmutation didn't stop at the ingredients they had laid out- it spread to each of them.

"No!" exclaimed Edward, "A backfired transmutation!"

After that everything went black.

Edward awoke in a strange, white place with a human shaped blank canvas.

"Tsk, tsk," it said suddenly.

Edward's eyes widened, "Who are you?"

"I'm the only thing in the world that's real. I'm the truth behind all the lies," it chuckled conceitedly again, "but you can just call me god."

"What do you want- where's Alphonse, what did you do with him?"

It chuckled conceitedly again, "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

It waved it's hand and a huge stone door appeared behind Edward, "I'll see you on the other side."

It snapped it's fingers and the door swung open, long, black arms shot out of it, grabbing Edward and dragging him inside.

The moment after that was even stranger, he found himself in a place where all the knowledge of the world swirled around him like rolls of film, pouring into his head. Just when he thought he could take no more and began to scream, "It-it's too much!" he found himself on the other side, back with emptiness that called itself god.

Edward pressed his hands to the door, "All the answers are in here, aren't they? All the secrets to human transmutation- everything..."

He turned to god, "Please, I'd like to see it again."

"Sorry," it said, it's smile widened into a grin, "but you've seen as much as I can show you for the toll you've payed."

"Toll," repeated Edward, "what to-" his eyes grew wide with terror as his left leg began to flake apart and blow away, each part that disappeared reappeared on the blank slate where it used to be on Ed.

Before Edward had a chance to protest he awoke in reality, his leg was gone and he was bleeding everywhere, but that wasn't what he really cared about. What he was really afraid of was the possibility

he might be all alone.

"Mom! Alphonse!" he wept, "Somebody please help me!"

He managed to force his head up off the ground and looked at the transmutation circle where his mother should have sat. But what he actually saw, would give him nightmares for the rest of his life.

The creature they had created had four arms, black, leather skin and hair and all sunken in as if it was already dead and no pupils to the eyes. She made one and only one attempt to take a breath, but all that came out was her own blood. She bled herself to death in seconds this way.

"Mo-om?" Edward whispered, he was so afraid it hurt to speak, tears came into his eyes, "This—this wasn't supposed to happen-"

_No,_ he couldn't waste his time mourning, he had to find Alphonse.

"Alphonse! Alphonse, where are you? Say something!"

He crawled around on the floor, through the blood of the creature and leaving a trail of his own behind him from his leg, searching for his little brother that was no where to be found, but he might have kept searching until he bled to death if he hadn't come across Al's clothes.

"Alphonse," he wept harder, "no, not Alphonse..."

He buried his face into his baby brother's clothes and wept harder than he ever remembered weeping. 

_He was going to die here, cradling his brother's clothes, _he thought, and for a moment he almost submitted to that thought, until he noticed a fallen suit of armor beside him out of the corner of his eye. He threw down Alphonse's clothes and forced himself over to it, determined now more than ever.

Once he got there he jerked the helmet off and dipped his pointer finger in the blood coming from what was left of his leg.

"No, _not _Alphonse, not either of us!" he drew a blood seal inside the armor, "Please, he's my little brother, he's all I have left! Take my leg, take my arm, take my heart! Just give him back!"

He pressed his hands together.

It took his right arm but he got Alphonse back.

Edward opened his eyes a crack,_ There's always a cost, nothing comes for free._

He looked over at his little brother, unable to sleep because he had no flesh body to rest, _And Alphonse payed a dear one._

Alphonse turned his head to Edward when he noticed that he was still awake, "Edward," he said, he only called Ed by his name when he was really upset, "did you say you were an alchemist in front of number three on purpose?"

"I wanted to see what they did to alchemists," said Edward, he couldn't bring himself to lie to Alphonse right now.

He turned away, "Oh."

Edward rolled over, he thought about the way number three had cringed and pulled away from Alphonse, called him inhuman, he knew that that had shaken him, reminded him of what he was.

_Don't worry, Alphonse, _thought Edward, _once we find a philosopher's stone no one will ever look at you like that again, I promise._

The next morning he and Alphonse set out to look for Violet Flamel, but it was different now. Since the incident with father Malik they were no longer seen as strangers; they were seen as monsters.

Ed knew they would be outcasts here from the beginning, but as they stared at him and his little brother like demons on earth and his fists clenched, _he would never accept._

_Close minded bigots_, he thought.

"What kind of alchemist would live in a place like this?" muttered Edward through his teeth.

_A desperate one._

Al shrugged, "Maybe father Malik made the whole thing up, he did say there was nothing real about them."

"I guess that's a possibility," said Edward, "but I sincerely doubt it,"-he tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat- "priests don't usually make up people to hate," he chuckled wryly, "they just make up people to believe in."  
>"Well," said Alphonse, "we've been walking around for over an hour now looking for her, I think it's time we asked for directions." He should have remembered from number three's reaction how people here thought of people like them.<p>

Ed was about to explain why that was a bad idea, but before he had a chance to protest Al stopped a young woman on the street.

"Ma'am, could you tell us where Violet Flamel lives, please?" he asked quite politely.

The woman's response, however, was not as courteous.

She screamed, "Monster!" smacking him so hard in the face with her purse she sent him to the ground before running away.

"Wha-what was that for?" asked Alphonse, the woman didn't answer.

Edward winced and went over to him, "I tried to warn you," he said, "Malik is probably already spreading rumors about us."

Alphonse stood up, sighing, "I know, but you gave your real name to father Malik and introduced yourself as an enemy of god, how come no one hit you in the face with their purse?"

"Sorry Al," said Edward, rubbing the back of his neck, "but my face just isn't as recognizable as yours."

Al sighed again, "I guess you're right."

"So we agree that I should probably do all the talking?" said Edward.

"Sure," Al agreed.

Edward took a step forward. When he heard Alphonse's footsteps behind him he sighed deeply and turned around, "Without you, Al."

Al tried not to sound hurt, "Oh," he failed.

"Sorry Al," he said again, "but no one will talk to me if you're standing behind me. It's just until we find out where Violet Flamel lives, I doubt she goes to the church."

"Meet back here once you've found her?" suggested Alphonse, brightening slightly.

"Count on it," said Edward with a smile before running off.

"Don't run, brother, you'll fall!" Al shouted after him and was returned with a distant,

"Shut up!"

Al smiled inside himself and found a place to sit on the tagged and frozen solid, fountain in town square. He sighed gently and closed his eyes, patiently awaiting his brother's return.

Edward ran through the slippery, ice covered streets of Ryulbury, searching for someone to ask about

Violet but that crazy lady who hit Al with her purse seemed to be the only one around.

Everyone was either at church or at home, it gave the town an abandoned feeling. And without Alphonse beside him he was beginning to feel all alone in a ghost town, the abandoned buildings everywhere didn't help.

The only noise that could be heard was the sound of the nearby factory's huge machinery at work and his own footsteps on the ice.

"There's just nothing here," he said to himself. That was the moment he realized why this town was the

way it was; there was no education here, no transportation in or out, it was completely cut off from the rest of the country. People came here would only come here because they didn't have any where else to go.

"What kind of alchemist has no where to go in Amestris?" he wondered.

Ed was just about to give up on his search when he noticed a little old lady in a floral dress and afghan

returning home early from church

He ran over to her and tapped her shoulder gently.

"What is it, little one?" she asked, slowly and clumsily turning around to face him.

"Is that a short joke?" accused Edward.

The old lady seemed genuinely confused, "What?" she asked, struggling to hear him she cupped her hand to her ear.

"I-I was just wondering if you knew where Violet Flamel lives?" he stammered.

She definitely heard that, her sunken eyes widened and her mouth fell open, suspicion creeping into her tone, "Why would you want to know that, little one?"

Edward thought up a lie quickly, "I was thinking about throwing a brick through her window," he said, "gotta show these heretics we mean business."

The old woman nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, like those two demons who broke into the church a few days ago," she looked over at the church, "poor father Malik, he invited them back after the sermon for a cup of tea and out of the blue they tried to kill him and his assistant. That's what happens when you try and speak the truth, I suppose."

Edward halfheartedly feigned agreement, "Yeah."

The old woman turned slowly back to Edward, thoughtfully stroking her afghan, "But Violet's much worse than those two were."

"Ah," said Edward dismissively, "how bad can she be?"

The old woman looked both ways and leaned close, "Look, you seem like a good boy."

He wished her thinking that after he said he wanted to throw a brick through Violet's window surprised him.

"So be a good boy and listen to your elders, Violet isn't just any old heretic. Horrible things happen to people who cross her or even go near her. She's a sick, demented woman, she doesn't care about or respect anything and fears nothing. She'd kill her own mother if she came too close! I don't want to see you get hurt so take my advice and pray you never cross paths with Violet Flamel." And with that, she hobbled away.

Edward just stood there for a long moment. He couldn't say what she said surprised him, father Malik had said worse about Violet, but still... the thought of either of them being right terrified him.

Edward talked to several other residents in town throughout the afternoon, but they all had the same reaction when Violet's name came up, complete and total terror, even people who weren't church regulars.

He really began to doubt the wisdom of coming here. Many alchemists were prosecuted as devils- him included, but not like this.

Edward sat down on the steps going into what remained of an old abandoned building, rubbing his temples with a glove covered hand.

"What kind of horrible things does this alchemist do?" he wondered, "This whole thing could be a suicide mission."

He'd heard of truly awful alchemists- of what alchemy can really do when used for truly evil purposes, but even in all his adventures as a state alchemist he'd never encountered one in real life. And if she really did have a philosopher's stone it would be worse then anything he'd ever encountered before.

Edward was on the verge of giving up completely when he remembered the tone of shame that came into his brother's voice when he saw his bodiless reflection in 3's eyes, and the promise he'd made to him, _Don't worry Al, as soon as we find a philosopher's stone no one will ever look at you like that again._

Edward pounded the ice that blanketed the step he sat on ground so hard with his auto mail fist that it split and shattered, "I don't give a damn who she is," his voice quaked with emotion as he stood up, "she could be the devil himself for all I care! As long as there's a chance she has a philosopher's stone that's all that matters!"

He ran off faster than ever, the fire for this search beyond restored. But he should have heeded Al's warning, for he had scarcely traveled a yard before he slipped on the ice and slid into a poor passerby carrying her groceries. They spilt everywhere as they flung back from one another.


	2. Violet Flamel

Violet Flamel

_You can't make something out of nothing... For something to be created something of equal value must be sacrificed. This is the law of equivalent exchange, the basis of all alchemy. Because of it there is a taboo among alchemists; human transmutation is strictly forbid. For what could equal the value of a human soul?..._

"Ow," the girl groaned, putting her hand to her forehead.

"I'm so, so sorry," said Edward. He picked up her groceries and tried to give them to her.

She backed away from him, "It- it's alright, keep them. I can get more," she stammered.

Edward could see the fear in her eyes and wondered what it was about. Had she heard about him from father Malik? It didn't seem likely, no one else in town had recognized him.

"It was my fault you fell," he reached her groceries out to her, "these are yours, It wouldn't feel right just to take them from you."

The girl stepped further backward, "It's okay, really. I don't want them," she said.

_Then why did you buy them in the first place? _wondered Edward.

"Well, neither do I," he said.

"Then give them to someone else."

Ed stared at her for a while, he was confused- and he pitied her. He hadn't done anything yo hurt her, why the hell was she so afraid?

Finally, Ed decided to leave her grocery gags in front of her.

"Here," he said, "in case you change your mind."

Ed started to walk away, incapable of looking into her eyes for another moment, when he noticed another apple on the ice.

"Wait," he said, "I missed one."

"No," said the girl, "I've got it."

She reached for the last apple as he did and their hands met; they looked up at one another.

She was a small girl, scarcely a hair taller than himself, with alabaster skin, thick, scruffy, raven hair and the oddest purple eyes.

In a split second she looked down at her hand touching his own and jerked away, overcome by horror.

"What's wrong?" asked Edward.

The girl was shaking now, staring at her glove covered hand with tear filled eyes, through her fingers she saw Edward. His face showed a thing she hadn't seen in a lifetime, human empathy.

She forced herself to stop shaking and took the apple out from under his hand, careful not to touch him.

"Nothing,"she said, steadying her voice as she stood up, holding her groceries in the crooks of her arms, "What's your name?" she asked him incredulously, "I haven't seen you around before."

Edward was startled by her sudden change of mood, "Huh?- Oh, it's Edward, what's yours?"

"Violet, Violet Flamel."

Edward stifled a gasp, "That's a nice name."

_This shaky little girl was Violet Flamel? _But still, if she was as bad as the people here made her out to be her size wouldn't matter, it would probably be best if she didn't know he knew who she was.

"Thanks," she smiled gently but the fear and sorrow never left her eyes.

Edward thought for a moment about the proper way to approach this.

"Do you know a nice place to eat around here?" he asked suddenly, "I'm from out of town."

"Obviously," whispered Violet under her breath.

"What?" asked Edward.

"Nothing,- and no, sorry," she replied to both questions, "I wouldn't know where any kind of place to eat around here would be, I don't get out much."

Edward shrugged, "I could use a good home cooked meal."

For a moment she looked surprised, then she frowned, "Well," she said, "I'm not much of a cook."

Edward shrugged again, "I don't mind, how bad can you be."

"You've never actually tasted my cooking," pointed out Violet.

Edward simply chuckled, "Well, I will tonight."

"I don't know," she continued, "it's been a really long time since I had someone over..." she bowed her head, deep in thought.

"Oh, come on," urged Edward.

She raised her head, "Oh, what the heck, how's seven?"

"Seven's perfect."

Violet smiled smally and started to go down the street, but she stopped half way, looking back at him she shouted, "My house is the ugly one on the edge of town, you can't miss it!"

"Wait, can I bring my brother?" he asked her loudly, remembering Alphonse.

"Sure!" and with that, she was off.

Edward smiled in smug satisfaction before heading to town square where Al would be waiting.

Al still sat in the same spot on the fountain he had since Ed had left when a little girl came up to him.

"Have you seen my doll-" she began.

At that moment the woman Al assumed was her mother, came out of no where, grabbed her and ran away as if she were running from a ticking bomb.

Al watched them, then sighed and closed his eyes.

"Hey, Al!" he heard his brother's voice approaching.

He jumped up, "What is it, brother?"

"I found her," panted Edward, breathing was so much more difficult in the chill air of the north.

"Violet Flamel?" asked Al.

"No, Fuhrer Bradley, who did you think?" asked Edward, irritated.

"What's she like?" asked Al.

"She's just a kid, my age, she's really shaky though. We're eating dinner at her house tonight."

Violet arrived at her humble abode, coming through the back door because the front door stuck so badly. The door opened into a plain kitchen filled to the brim with trash and clutter. So as she entered she didn't throw her coat up on a rack, but on a pile of trash by the door, she didn't remove her gloves, however, she could never do that. She set her groceries in the only remaining space on the yellow tile counter before heading into in the living room.

"How could you invite someone over Violet?" she asked herself aloud.

"I don't want to be alone anymore," she replied, clenching her fists as tears came to her eyes, "I've been doing this too long and I don't know how much more I can take."

"Alright, but don't get too close. You know what happens when you get to close."

"I could never forget."

At that moment she bumped into the couch, pulling her away from her thoughts. She cleared a space and the beige couch, which squeaked loudly as she sat down.

"But I've got a clean slate with Edward," she whispered.

Violet lifted up one of her hands to face and stared into her palm as if the devil himself lied inside it.

_And I really could use one, _she thought.

A small cat with wings flew across the room and landed in her lap, pawing her and meowing pitifully.

She smiled gently and began to pet it.

When the hour of seven arrived Edward and Alphonse came to the edge of Ryulbury, and there, sure enough, was just about the ugliest house they had ever seen. It looked like it had once been a nice house but hadn't been properly cared for in years, the paint was peeling off the rotted wooden siding, the shingles were falling off the roof and the grass was so high bits of it could be seen above the 3 foot thick layer of ice that covered the lawn.

"Is this the place?" asked Alphonse.

"It's got to be," said Edward, "this is the ugliest house in town."

Alphonse looked at the house again, "I don't know," he said, "it doesn't look like anyone has lived here in years."

"Only one way to find out," remarked Edward.

Alphonse went up to one of the snow banks and hit it with the flat of his hand.

Edward came up behind it and poked it with his finger, "Is it stable?" he asked.

Al nodded, "Yes, it's solid ice," he helped Edward up the side, "but be careful, though, it's slippery."

Alphonse climbed up as well and they went over to the door.

Edward stepped in front of the door, next to it was a wall mailbox, rusted shut from lack of use.

"I sure hope this is the place," said Edward. He hesitated, then knocked.

"Be right there!" he heard Violet's voice shout.

They waited, hearing a lot of strange noises- the sound of something flapping.

"Seamus!" they heard her voice again, the clicks of locks, the door went in slightly but didn't open.

"Uhh," they heard Violet's voice, "would you mind too terribly pushing on the door? It sticks."

"Uh," Ed and Al looked at each other, "No, not at all."

"Good," said Violet, "I'll pull, ready?"

"Yup."

"Now!"

They pushed with all their might, Violet pulled with all of hers. When the door finally opened the force sent her to the floor.

Virtually unfazed she stood up and gestured them in, "Come in, come in."

Al obeyed but Ed stopped to see why the door stuck so much, it was a lot more obvious the he thought. The part of the door that held the lock was frayed and practically torn open. _Did we-_ no, this was old, dust and grime had collected on the frayed wood.

"You coming, Ed?" asked Violet.

"Huh?" said Edward, returning to reality, "Oh, right."

He caught up with them as Violet went over to Alphonse.

"It's nice to finally meet Ed's older brother," she said.

Al raised a hand in protest; Ed nearly blew a gasket.

"Alphonse is my _younger_ brother," he said, forcing himself to stay calm.

"Oh," said Violet, she looked over at Alphonse again, "really?"

Ed's face was turning redder than his coat, "Really."

Violet shrugged, "Okay, then."

Alphonse reached his hand out to her, she flinched, he retracted, "Umm, I'm sorry about the armor."

Violet shook her head, "No, I'm sorry. It's not you really." Her voice was utterly sincere.

Edward looked around Violet's cluttered home, it didn't look like anyone lived in it from the inside either. Old newspapers, food containers beakers and books among other things were piled up to the ceiling. It was a large house but since it was so filled with trash it made Edward feel more and more claustrophobic.

"Sorry about the mess," said Violet, awkwardly shoving trash aside with her foot, "I haven't had company over since well, ever."

They heard a noise, Violet's head turned in a flash.

"Seamus," she whispered and stepped into the room that seemed to be the kitchen, "The food's on the table!"  
>"Now we just need to find the table," said Edward.<p>

It wasn't as difficult as they originally imagined, but it did take them about three minutes to realize that they were in the dining room. They cleared away part of a pile of junk to discover a huge table with fifteen chairs around it. Violet had cleared off three of the chairs so she and the brothers would have a place to sit. Three plates set before them holding, _charcoal?- _no, it was meat and vegetables of some kind.

"Wow," said Edward, "she wasn't kidding about her cooking."

They heard the rustling of some trash, it was Violet, tripping over the trash and herself as she made her way over to them.

"Hi," she said awkwardly when she noticed they were both staring at her, "I'm kind of a klutz."

She came closer to them, she tripped over her own pant leg and fell to the ground. She groaned softly.

"Are you okay?" asked Alphonse.

"Yeah," she said, pushing herself up, "I'm always okay."

She walked over to them, "So," she said, "how's the food?"

Edward looked down at his plate, the food looked anything but appetizing.

_Well, _he thought, cutting a small piece of what he hoped was meat and stabbed it with his fork, _I guess there's no way I can get out of this now, I don't want to insult her._

Edward ate the bit of meat he had cut off, unbelievably, it tasted worse than it looked but he choked it down.

"It's not terrible," he had to force out those words.

She smiled, "That's actually the nicest thing anyone has ever said about my cooking."

Edward wiped his tongue on the sleeve of his coat as Violet turned her head over to Alphonse, "What about you?"

Al looked down at the food but unlike Edward he couldn't even eat or pretend to like it.

"I'm full," he said quickly, "sorry, I had a big lunch."

"That's alright," said Violet cheerfully, "you aren't missing out on much, I promise."

"Uh, Violet," said Edward, "could you get me something to drink?"

"Sure, milk or water?" asked Violet.

"Water, definitely."

"I'll be back in just a minute," said Violet, she went carefully back into the kitchen.

"Are you sure she has a philosopher's stone?" Alphonse asked once she was gone.

"Not sure," said Edward, "but something about her little dork routine isn't sitting right with me."

At that moment Violet returned with a glass of water, she gave it to Ed.

"Thank you," said Edward.

Violet smiled, "You're welcome," she looked over at Alphonse, "would you like some thing to drink, Alphonse?"

"No, thank you," said Al, "and you can call me Al, every body else does."

"Thank you, _Al_," said Violet.

She sat down and almost instantly there was a change in her demeanor, "You know, typically," she said, taking a small bite of her dinner, "everyone who comes here learns very quickly that they should stay away from me, but you didn't- not that I'm ungrateful. But there is no way you couldn't have heard the warnings, and you came here with your giant-(no offense, Al,) armor plated little brother. So I have to ask, why?"

Edward seemed startled by that question, a fork full of food held up in mid-air. He set it back down on his plate.

"Well, actually," he said, "I didn't talk to anyone other than you in the town. Why would they tell me to

stay away from you? Do you have some incurable disease or something?"

"NO," said Violet, she stared down at the table, "let's just say state alchemists don't have the best reputation up here."

"You're a state alchemist!" said Alphonse.

She shook her head, "No, but my dad was. I would never do something as awful as that..."

"What do you have against alchemists?" asked Edward, toying idly with his fork.

"It's not alchemists in general I have a problem with, it's this country's military I don't much care for." said Violet.

"Well, other than skill level, what's the difference between an alchemist and an alchemist with state certification?" asked Edward.

Violet tapped the table, "Well.." it was difficult for her to put her thought into words, "it's the difference

between a normal person and a soldier."

"What do you mean?" asked Ed. _Keep her talking, _eventually, she'd forget her original question.

"Well," she continued, "a normal person may not have all the abilities and resources that a soldier does, but, they're always in control- but a soldier," -she shook her head- "everything in war is grey, so they can never be sure they're doing what's right, or even what's best. It often get's to the point where they're just blindly fallowing orders because they have to."

"That's not true, you can always refuse orders," said Edward.

Violet forced a wry smile, "But at what cost? Most alchemists with certification rely on it, the government makes sure of that. So there isn't any hesitation even when they give the unthinkable order."

"What order?"

She looked up from the table and directly at him, "The order to kill, and in the end, the only choice they

have is to obey." said Violet, "They aren't called the military's dogs because the way turned on the people, there called that because of the way they are so easily turned on each other, with the realization that, the person who fallows the order is the one who keeps their job. And someone always will, so refusing the order doesn't save any one. It's really no wonder why so many of can turn into monsters."

Edward squeezed his auto mail knee hard, "So I guess your relationship with your father isn't so good,"

he said.

"Not really," sighed Violet, she turned her head carefully away, "I really do hate this country, if I had the money to leave I would. Be a nomad," -she smiled then, her face brightening slightly- "because every place seems like a good place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there."

"Sounds to me like your running from something," remarked Edward.

"What about the two of you?" she laughed, "the two strange boys from out of town, what are you running from?"

"Not running from, looking for. There's a big difference."

"That's debatable."

"I disagree," said Edward.

"See?" said Violet victoriously, "You just proved my point, were already having a debate about it."

Al glanced at Edward, his face showed, not the usual phoniness he'd been displaying repetitively during this meal, but genuine amusement.

He looked back at Violet, "So where is your father now?"

Violet's smile disappeared instantly as if Al had wiped it away, "He died in the Ishbalen civil war."

"I'm sorry," said Al.

Violet took a little bite of food, "That's okay, don't worry about it."

"What about your mom?" asked Edward, "Is she around?"

Violet shook her head, "She travels a lot."

"She left you all alone?"

"What's the big deal? I can take care of myself," she started rubbing her arm red, Edward could tell she

wasn't being totally honest.

"I just doesn't seem like something a good parent would do."

Edward pressed further, ignoring Al's soft, "Brother, stop."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Violet squeezed her arm so hard they both saw the bruises, "No. Can we," she cleared her throat, "Can we change the subject, please?"

"Sure," said Edward, taking another small sip of water. He didn't want to press_ sensitive _matters too hard, she'd begin to get suspicious and ask him of his own past. And, even worse he didn't want to see what she was capable of doing to a human body if he truly upset her.

They didn't talk about much else during the duration of the meal.

Violet barely ate a bite herself, she was increasingly nervous and uncomfortable- almost scared. She wrung her wrists and pulled her gloves tighter onto her hands. Alphonse asked her several times if she was okay, Ed didn't seem to care as much, but she only said she was every time anyway. It seemed that Ed was just happy that she had forgotten her original question.

Edward took the last nauseating bite of food she had set out for him and she lead them to the door.

"Would you two like to come for breakfast tomorrow?" she asked them, "You can bring your own food if you prefer."

"We'd like that," Ed said.

They thanked her for the meal and headed back to their hotel without another word. The moment they got inside their hotel room Ed ran into the bathroom and vomited half of the food he'd eaten into the toilet.

Al laughed, "One of the few nights I don't regret not having a body."

Edward pulled his head out of the toilet and wiped his mouth, "Shut up!"

But late that night, he and Violet lay awake in their beds staring up at the ceiling.

_Violet, _Edward thought.

_Edward, _Violet thought, _he seems nice enough._

_She seems nice enough, _Ed turned over onto one side, _but she's/ he's definitely hiding something._

They brought their own food as she had advised when they came to see early the next morning. Al said he got hungry and ate on his way there and Violet was completely okay with that. She had cleaned up a bit; the table was much easier to find. They said little more as they sat down and started eating.

"So," said Edward suddenly, "what do you like to do for fun?" he asked Violet.

"Huh?" Violet's head seemed to be somewhere else this morning, "Oh, not a lot. I'm kind of a downer."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, there's got to be something you like to do," said Edward.

"Well," she thought for a long moment, "I used to like to draw."

"Why'd you stop?" asked Alphonse.

Violet shrugged, "Life kept getting in the way. There isn't room to do much of anything around here," she said, gesturing to the clutter around them.

Edward ate the last bite of his breakfast set down his fork on his plate, "Well that's all about to change."

Violet seemed startled, "What?"

"I've felt kinda guilty about just coming in and eating your food yesterday. I want to pay you back," said Edward, "so how about me and Al help you clean up the place?"

Violet seemed more than a little hesitant, "Well, but- but you're boys."

"So? I can clean up just as well as you can," Edward glanced around again. _But that doesn't say much._

"Well, okay, I guess if you really want-"

Edward shot up, "Great! Let's get started."

Violet's eyes widened with surprise, but then she smiled and got up as well, "Sure."

Ed smirked, _It'll give me a chance to look around._

Or at least, so he thought, butViolet really didn't give him a chance to sneak away. Sitting with him in

the room that seemed to the library, forcing him to help her put old books up on the shelves, - well, that wasn't completely accurate. But she asked him to he didn't want to refuse.

"'Alchemy, the search for the philosopher's stone'," Edward read aloud that, and many more titles of the same nature. "Wow," he said, "your dad had a lot of books on the philosopher's stone."

"He was a state alchemist and very bookish, what did you expect him to do all day?" he heard the forced blankness in her tone, "I never really understood it though," she sighed and put the book up on the very bottom shelf, "why on _earth_ would anyone want a philosopher's stone?"

_An easy thing to say if you already have one, _thought Edward.

Al walked in just then, carrying a big box of books, Violet took it from him and walked to the other side of the library.

"Did you find anything suspicious?" Edward whispered to him.

"I wasn't really looking."

"What?"

"I was actually trying to clean," said Alphonse.

"But the whole reason we're here is to find out if she has a philosopher's stone!"

Al looked over at Violet, taking books out of the box and jumping to try and put them on the higher shelves, "I really don't think she does," he said, "she seems so sweet."

"Show's what you know," grumbled Edward, he looked up at Alphonse, "what about what she said about state alchemists?"

Al was a tad taken aback.

"You really don't think I'm a _'monster'_, do you?" Ed asked him.

"No!" said Al, "of course not! But that wasn't what she said-"

At that moment they heard Violet's footsteps approaching and were forced to end the conversation there.

She came up to Ed, holding a lamp, "Ed, would you take this upstairs for me?"

"Okay," Edward grabbed the lamp and went upstairs to put the lamp in the attic.

_Finally, _he thought. He'd gotten his chance to look around, but it was hardly worth the wait. He couldn't find anything suspicious, not even a lukewarm bunson burner.

_If she is an alchemist, she hide it very well, but everyone slips up._

There was one thing that he found a bit suspicious, the house's size; under all the clutter, it was huge, far too big for a family with just one child.

After a few moments more he remembered that Violet was still waiting for him back in the library, without the lamp. So he headed up into the attic to put the lamp away.

It was dark and dusty as he fumbled for a light switch because of the clutter. He sighed with relief when he finally found it and switched it on. He then put the lamp up on a table in the corner and started to leave until something caught his eye. A little bed sat in the corner of the room, accompanied by a little dresser and throw rug. This place wasn't just the attic, it was Violet's bedroom.

"Jack pot," said Edward with a smile. He began to dig through drawers and go through her things but all he found was some clothes and stupid little line drawings of nothing.

"Maybe she doesn't have a philosopher's stone after all," he said once he had looked through every drawer and box in the attic, he sighed deeply and plopped down on the bed. That was when the real frustration and anger set in.

"So we came all this way for nothing!" he brought his fist down into the pillow, "And I'm still just as far as ever as ever from keeping my promise to Al."

He lifted his fist again and heard the sound of broken glass moving.

"Huh?" he looked under the pillow, there was a broken picture frame.

Edward picked it up and looked at it closely. The frame had a picture in it, alright, but he couldn't tell of what. He cleared away the bits of broken glass and pulled the picture carefully out. It was of a younger Violet, surrounded by twelve younger boys and two adults he assumed were her parents. When he turned the picture over it confirmed his suspicions.

_The Flamels,_ it was a family portrait.

"No siblings my ass!" he threw down the ladder and stomped down the steps.

When he came into the library Violet was sitting on Al's shoulders as he handed her books to put up on the top shelf.

Normally, Edward would have kept this information quiet, but he'd finally found something on her and he wasn't thinking clearly enough to keep his mouth shut.

"You're a liar!" he shouted at Violet.

Startling Alphonse to the point he dropped her, "What?"

"Ouch," groaned Violet.

"Oh, I'm sorry Violet," he grabbed her arm and helped her up.

"Oh, don't help her," said Edward with a roll of his eyes.

Violet dusted herself off, completely unbothered by his rage, "So," she said, "what took you so long putting up the lamp?"

Her calmness infuriated him, "You said you didn't have any siblings," he said, "if that's true then explain this."

He tossed her the picture; she looked at it and tears came into her eyes.

"How did you find this?"

"Under a pillow in the attic," said Edward with a smile, "explain that if these people don't exist."

"Brother, stop!" said Alphonse, but sadly, he was ignored.

Violet's eyes looked up from the picture and straight at Edward, they were filled past the brim with tears, "You want an explanation?" her voice shook with sorrow, "all my brothers are dead!"

She ran away, leaving Edward feeling like a complete and total ass.

"Nice one, brother," said Al.

Edward's face flushed, "Yeah, yeah, how was I supposed to know?"

"Well, you didn't have to stomp in here like judge and jury! You _actually_ lied to her," said Alphonse.

Edward sighed deeply and went to find Violet. At least she hadn't gone as far as he feared she might have.

He found he found her in the living room, sitting on the corner of the couch, looking at the picture he had tossed at her with daunted eyes.

Edward tapped the door frame with his knuckle to get her attention, when she looked up he smiled nervously, "Hi, Violet," he said gently and stepped into the room, "I came to apologize, I shouldn't have accused you like that-"

"That's okay," she looked at the picture again, "I wasn't upset with you, but looking at this picture," she sighed deeply and closed her eyes, "it brought back a lot of memories I wish I didn't have sometimes."

Edward stepped closer, "Like what happened to your brothers?"

Violet shot him a cross glance and smiled without mirth, "Yeah, memories like those."

"I know I've got no right to pry at this point," began Edward, "but what did happen to them?"

"This country happened to them.-That picture you took...was taken right after my father returned from

the Ishbalen civil war."

"But I thought you said he died-"

"He did, he wasn't the same person when he came home. You see, he was made a state alchemist because of the speed he could draw transmutation circles, but he got injured in battle saving the life of another soldier... It cost him control of his right hand, so he couldn't draw transmutation circles anymore,"-suddenly she leaned back against the couch, chuckling she looked up at him, "So even though he risked his life for this country and gave them his right arm they still planned to fire him. But it was the only income our family had, so he became obsessed with keeping it."

Edward's eyes widened.

"He slowly fell deeper and deeper into depression, desperately going through every option he could think of,-auto-mail prosthetics, but there's no replacing nerve endings,-using his left hand to draw transmutation circles, but it would take him years to get back to his average and he didn't have that kind

of time. So, with time running out and his mind slipping he did the unthinkable... He committed the taboo."

Edward's eyes shot open wider than ever but he feigned confusion, "What taboo?"

Violet sighed deeply, _Doesn't this boy know anything about alchemy?_

"Human transmutation, on the military lackey that got saddled with giving him his discharge papers. He combined his body with one of my pets to make a chimera and showed it to me the next morning. I knew right then what he'd done but I'm ashamed to say that I was too afraid to speak up, because maybe if I stopped them there he never would have used my brothers."

"He committed human transmutation... o-on his own sons?" said Edward.

Violet shifted on the couch again and stared at her boots, Edward hadn't noticed but they had little blood stains on them.

"Uh-huh," she said, "you'd be surprised what people have the capacity to do when confronted with true desperation."

Edward squeezed his auto-mail arm, _Not really._

"How-how did you find out?"

"He got sloppy," said Violet, "he told me he was sending them to boarding school, but that doesn't work when they're only three years old," she swallowed a sob and continued, "when found out the truth

I immediately went to my mom for help, but all she did was drag me out of the house."

"She did what she thought was best, I'm sure of it," said Edward, "if you stayed he would have destroyed you too."

She stared down at her hands again, "I doubt that, and she just expected to leave them, my brothers... my _family_, trapped in hell. And even though we ran, we didn't get away, he fallowed us, mom said it was because he wanted me. She died a few years ago so I came back here, but the place was empty, all my brothers... were already dead, so I've been alone ever since..."

She curled up in the corner of the couch and rested her head in her knees, weeping gently.

Edward sat down beside her and hugged her.

"W-what's wrong with you?" she asked through her tears, "I thought you'd treat me like the child of demons!"

He hugged her tighter, "Don't ever let anyone call you that. You aren't responsible for the sins of your father."

Violet was shocked for a moment, but then she just leaned her head into his neck and took the safety he'd offered

A tall man with black hair it a old dirty uniform walked through the corridor of a government facility, _So far,_ he thought, _things were going off without a hitch,_ at least, until a young private noticed him.

"Wait," he said, "you aren't wearing a regulation uniform. We haven't worn uniforms like those since the Ishbalen-"

The man tossed the private a pocket watch, "I'm a state alchemist, kid, I'm allowed to wear what I want."

The private looked at the watch in awe, "I'm terribly sorry, major, " he tapped his boots together and saluted, "sir!"

The man gave a dismissive gesture as he walked the past the private, "At ease."

The private lowered his hand and turned the watch over to see the certification number.

_01857392-_ his eyes shot open when he remembered the state alchemist that number belonged to, _The Quickdraw Alchemist?_

The man was almost completely down the hall when the private said, "Wait, this certification number was canceled nearly three years ago-"

Before he'd even had the chance to finish the thought before the man pulled a gun from his pocket and shot him straight through the skull with a 90 caliber bullet. He blew the smoke off the gun's barrel before walking up to the private, he was on the floor, his head resting in a pool of blood, shaking all over as he struggled to cling to life.

"Damn," he said, "I can't believe I missed," he squeezed his right shoulder, "damn him."

He kneeled down and pushed his gun to the side of the private's head, just above his eyebrow, this time he would fire from point-blank range, "Now," he said, "what were you saying about my state certification?"

The private looked up at him, his teeth clenched in anger and agony, "It's it's expired-"

At that moment he pulled the trigger, blasting the private's brains out. He stood up and tucked the gun away in his pants pocket, "Sorry," he said, "but you're the only thing in this room that's expired."

He picked his certification watch off the floor and walked away.

He broke into the filing room and began to raid the record's of where the state alchemists traveled.

He sit down on the floor with a huge pile of folders, looking through the information before tossing them aside.

"Where are you, Roy?" he mumbled to himself, adjusting his broken glasses, "I still haven't thanked you for what you did to my career. Even without my daughter I can still shoot-"

He did a double take and grabbed one of the files he'd tossed on the ground, his eyes widened as he reread it, "Ryulbury," he whispered. _Now why would a state alchemist- _he smiled, "Sarah and Violet have finally come home."

He stood up, laughing as he tossed the file aside, "It must be Roy," he said, "if anyone other than me would find them it would be you."

He left the filing room in shambles, he didn't really care if anyone knew he'd came through here. He passed through the hallway where he had murdered the first private, another female private was shaking his dead body.

"Private Jones, can you hear me? Please wake up!" she said tears in her eyes.

He took a step closer, the woman was quick to pull out her gun, "Who are you?"

_But then again, _he shot straight through her heart without a single miscalculation, killing her instantly,

_I want it to be surprise. _He went back over to the to the two privates and looked down at them.

"Let this be a lesson to both of you," he said, "_this _is what happens to soldiers who hesitate."

Edward and Violet went back to see Alphonse; Ed told him the gist of Violet's story and he was just as sympathetic.

"I'm so, so sorry," said Alphonse.

She shrugged her narrow shoulders, "It's alright, all broken hearts heal," she looked away from them, "in one way or another?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Edward.

Violet looked back at him, mazed, "What's what supposed to mean?"

"What you just said," replied Edward.

"I said something?"

"Yeah."

She seemed utterly confused for a moment, but then blew it all over by exhaling deeply and slapping her forehead, "Oh, sorry, space cadet- I just kinda talk without thinking a lot of times, I can't even make sense out of it."

"Okay," said Edward and Alphonse together.

"Anyway," said Edward, "I'm sorry about accusing you of lying about your brothers. That was way off base, I don't know what came over me."

She shrugged again, "Forget about it, no harm done."

Violet sat down on the floor of the library, Ed and Al sat down on either side of her.

"You're incredibly strong to deal with so much death and not crack," said Al.

"Nah," she lent back against a book shelf, "I believe we all go somewhere when we die. I believe there's a heaven, I believe in god."

Edward chuckled wryly.

"What is it?" asked Violet. She stared into him with those with those wounded eyes that had probably seen more than most wound in there nightmares.

_If god's what she needs to cope, _he thought,- provided she wasn't being crazy about it, _I can't bring myself to take that away from her._

Al looked desperately at his big brother, waiting with apprehension for the moment he was going to tear Violet into pieces.

"Nothing," said Edward; but that moment never came.

"And I'm not the only survivor of my ordeal," said Violet with a smile, "I've got a cat, would you like me to introduce you?"

Ed and Al looked at each other, "Uh, sure."

Violet got up and walked away.

The moment she was gone Al turned to Edward, "You didn't tear her apart about believing in god?"

Edward crossed his arms, "What's your point?"

"You really like her, don't you?" said Alphonse.

Edward's face flushed, "She's just a nice girl, that's all."

"You love her."

Edward jumped up, "No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do," said Alphonse calmly.

"Do not!" shouted Edward.

"Do to!"

"**Do not!**"

"What are you to arguing about?" asked Violet, a little grey winged cat on her shoulders.

"Nothing!" Edward said anxiously.

Al laughed.

Violet seemed confused, but she shrugged it off, "Whatever, this is my cat," she reached behind her and grabbed the cat, placing him gently on the floor in front of them, "his name is Seamus."

"He's got wings?" said Alphonse.

"He's one of my father's earlier prototypes," said Violet, "you can pet him, if you want."

Al reached his hand out to the cat, it rubbed his head and cheeks gently against him, "He's a sweet little

chimera."

"And how did you know that, Alphonse?" asked Violet.

"I-I just read some stuff about them."

"Dido," said Violet with a smile, she reached her hand down to Seamus and he flew back up onto her shoulders, "but he really isn't a chimera, he's just a little cat with wings sewn on," she petted Seamus gently with a finger, "I think he might actually like them."

Edward shifted on the floor, he hadn't said a word since she'd shown them her cat.

"I'm sorry if it's weird."

"No," said Edward, "it's okay."

They avoided telling her that they were alchemists, and even though Edward no longer believed she could have a philosopher's stone, they continued to help her clean until late in the evening. Edward evened suffered through one of her "home cooked meals" when dinner time came. And again, as night fell, Violet lead the two brothers to the door.

"Thanks for helping me clean up," said Violet, "the place hasn't looked this nice in years."

She looked behind her, the place was still what a normal person would call unlivably filthy, but, it was a vast improvement from it's previous state.

"You're welcome," said Al, "sorry about dropping you before."

"That's alright," she smiled and turned to Ed, "and thank you for apologizing to me, Edward, you didn't have to do that."

"It was nothing-"  
>"No, it really wasn't. I've been called a lot worse things than a liar, by people who wouldn't apologize to me on their death beds, so thanks."<p>

"Then you're welcome," said Edward. He wasn't sure what to do next so he just reached his out to shake her hand. She flinched, but as he began to retract she grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him to her and kissed him gently.

When she pulled away he stared at her.

"I-I'm – I'm-goodnight!" she exclaimed nervously and walked away, _Why the hell did I just do that?_

Ed just stood in the their, in the doorway and watched her walk away, _Why the hell did she do that?_

Al just laughed.

"Let's-let's leave," said Edward, clearing his throat.

So he and Alphonse returned to their hotel. Edward went straight into the bathroom once they got their, pulled his hair out of it's usual braid and splashed his face with cold water. Violet's kiss had left him more shaken than he cared to admit.

"Are you okay?" Al asked him.

"I'm fine!" he shouted without thinking.

"You like her," Al said again.

"Shut up."

Edward changed into his night clothes, something he only did when he had a lot on his mind. Al was already resting against the wall when he slipped under the covers of his own bed. Hard as he tried he couldn't keep himself from thinking about Violet, _She doesn't make any sense... She's lived such a __horrible life, and the only thing that helps her cope is what people use as an excuse to demonize her? How can she believe in god? Even if she isn't an alchemist she was raised by one._

Violet grabbed Seamus and shuffled of to bed, _Why did I kiss him?_ She shouldn't have done that.

She curled up in bed and pulled Seamus to her chest after making sure her gloves were still on securely.  
><em> You're getting too close, Violet, you know what happens when you get too close.<em>

Violet rested her head into the pillow, _I could never forget_, and gently fell asleep.

Violet dreamed that she awoke on the floor, by a bloody transmutation circle.

She looked up and saw her mother mopping the floor, "Mom?" she whispered.

Her mother leaned the mop against the wall and wiped the sweat off her forehead, "I'm sorry," she said,

"I hoped to get this cleaned before you woke up." She started to go over to Violet.

"You were right all along," Violet labored as she turned over onto her side and her mother kneeled beside her, "alchemy is the devil's art."

"NO!"Violet's mother shouted, Then, suddenly, she bowed her head, "Yes it can be used for horrible things but so can any power."

"What?" said Violet gently.

"Everyone protects people in their own way," her mother explained, "using whatever resources they have at their disposal," her voice trembled now, she squeezed her knees hard, staring down at her small daughter with tear filled eyes, "even if those resources come from an unspeakably awful place."

Violet looked up at her mother with concern, "Mom?"

"Oh, Violet," her mother hugged her, "please forgive me..."

"For—what, mom? What did you do?" asked Violet.

Her mother chuckled softly and squeezed the empty finder on her necklace, "Something blasphemous, the ultimate sin..."

Violet's eyes widened, _Human transmutation...?_

"What-...why?-"

"Shh," said Violet's mother, "and listen to me carefully. Your father wants the-"

But she never finished, for that moment Violet put her arms around her mother and iron skewers shot out of her flesh. Then they spattered into blood, running over the internal puncture wounds, soaking small Violet down to the skin.

"Violet...wh-why would you kill me?" were the last words she ever spoke.

"Mom?" Violet pushed herself up, her mother lay bleeding on the floor, "MOM?"

Violet awoke with a start and sat up quickly. Seamus yowled in protest, she clutched him tightly.

_Just a dream, _she released Seamus and stared at her glove covered hands. She then covered her face and wept into them, _I wish... I wish..._

Violet awoke late the fallowing morning and groggily went into the kitchen to start her breakfast.

_You should probably try to avoid Ed for a while, _she thought to herself sleepily as she cracked two eggs into the toaster_, he's bringing up all these old memories and fears, he's doing more harm to you than good, and you can hurt him even worse. _

Seamus meowed loudly directly in her face, interrupting her thoughts mercifully, she patted his head, "I'm okay, Seamus, it's just some old ghosts knocking, that's all." at that moment there was a knock at the door, Seamus jumped into her arms, "I'll be there in a minute!"

Seamus climbed up onto her shoulders as she went to answer the door. _Besides,_ she thought, her mind sliding back to Edward once again, _I don't know anything about him anyway._

She threw open the door, there stood Edward with a small awkward smile on his lips.

"Wanna, I don't know..." he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "..show me around town?"

Edward did a mental face-palm when he realized what that question entailed._ Show him around town? There was nothing here! She was going to see fight through him. She-_

_-_answered without thinking, "Sure." it was her turn to do a mental face-palm, _Crap._

Ed smiled, "Great,"he glanced behind her and saw smoke, "is-is something burning?"

Violet's eyes widened, "The toaster!"

A few moments later they walked through town together, Violet across an old stone wall, Ed beside her on the ground.

"You tried to cook eggs in the toaster?" Edward laughed, "When did that seem like a good idea?"

"Shut up," said Violet with a smile, "so I wasn't put on this earth to cook, so what."

"Ah, I'll be you breakfast, how's that sound?" said Edward.

Violet stretched her arms up, arching her back, "Don't trouble yourself on my behalf, I don't like eating much anyway."

"Ever think that may have something to do with the food you cook?" remarked Edward.

Violet didn't even seem to register the words as an insult, "Nah, I don't eat much regardless of who's cooking. My mom was great cook, and I didn't even eat that much when she was..." her words drifted into the thin air of the north wind as it blew through the strands of her raven hair, she wasn't walking anymore as the wind caught her open coat as it did Edwards, neither one said the final period.

Gold eyes met pale violet as he looked up at her with pity.

She blew the whole thing off with an unusual sigh, "Anyway," she said with a thin smile, "how about that tour?" she bound off then, shouting, "Come on!" after Edward.

He smiled and ran after her, "Wait up!"

Violet only stopped when they arrived at a block with a past church surrounded by other unrecognizable uninhabited buildings.

"I don't understand why you brought me here," said Edward, "there isn't anything worth looking at."

Violet grinned knowingly and stepped into an abandoned lot filled with debris from the crumbled buildings that surrounded it, Edward dubiously fallowed her.

"Watch out for bear traps," Violet said as an after thought."

_Be-bear traps?_ Thought Edward, slowly and carefully going through the debris. Watching his feet with every step he made. When he caught up with Violet in the far corner of the lot she was sitting on a bit of debris, smiling down at an ugly little weed growing through the cracks in the pavement.

"You brought me here to look at a weed?" Ed grumbled, looking down at the plant with scorn.

Violet's smile widened, "Your focusing too much on what you can see," she said, pulling a single small leaf of the top of the stalk with extreme care, "close your eyes."

Edward hesitantly obeyed.

She held the leaf just below his nose, "Now smell."

Edward took a deep breath through his nose, "Mmm," he opened his eyes with a smile, "that smells wonderful."

Violet giggled softly, "Uh-huh, you'll find that appearances rarely reveal the whole truth." she looked back down at the plant almost lovingly, "The Ryin flower isn't the prettiest and yet it one of the most fragrant plants in the world, a lot of things are like that... All someone has to do to see the truth is look beyond the surface..."

Edward studied the severed leaf carefully, "But how can this grow here? It's so cold."

Violet stood up and pointed, "Do you see that factory?"

Edward nodded.

Violet placed her hands on either side of a huge chunk of debris and pushed hard, it didn't budge. She sighed and moved around to push it with her back, lifting slightly with her knees. Her legs were wobbling and the vein in her forehead was visible.

"Uh, Violet, do you need some help?" asked Edward, at that moment, she pushed it aside, causing a chain reaction of piping to fall.

With a satisfied sigh and a pat of her gloves she looked from the newly exposed vent to Edward, "This is one of the exhaust pipes for it, hot soot comes out of it twenty-four seven, making this area the warmest in town," she pulled some soot straight from the pipe, it was even warm through her thick gloves and sprinkled it gently around the plant, "and sooty dirt is great for plants."

"That's amazing," said Edward with a smile.

Violet chuckled softly, "That's the one thing I've always loved most about this world. Beautiful things can come from anywhere," she looked up at the factory, "even the most unspeakably horrible places."

She hopped back over the debris swiftly, Edward clumsily after her, and into the gravel road.

"Hey, so what's the deal with that factory anyway?" he asked her.

"Hmm?" she turned to him, "Oh, that. What do you mean?"

"Well, towns usually have mayors or stuff to approve that stuff. What possessed your mayor to approve that?" he gestured to the factory.

"It's sort of a long story..."

Edward shoved his hands into his pockets, "I've got time."

"Ryulbury wasn't always like this," she closed her eyes, the images clearing in her mind, "childrens' laughter used to be heard everywhere, all the shops were open... This place used to be called Christ's Haven, people came here seeking freedom from religious persecution, it was a beautiful and cozy little place," her eyes opened, "but they were poor and short sighted, so when a big company wanted to come in, promising prosperity no one questioned it... It brought jobs for only about a month until the military took over. They said they needed weapons made for the war against Drachma. I don't believe that.

Their paranoid leader classified everything so civilians weren't even allowed inside even more. Suddenly all the factory jobs were gone and all that was left was a big building spewing lead into the air until even new fallen snow was black. No one came here anymore so all the businesses closed, and then the school, until only the church remained..." she turned from him suddenly staring off into the thin air, "and when something hurts that much humans look for something to blame..."

"And state alchemists make a good scapegoat, don't they?" said Edward with a wry smile.

"Yeah, the church started playing that game early on, until the word of god became bitter, and because of the change in it's people and the very ground beneath it Christ's Haven has become what they call it now," she gave a little smile, "Christ's slum- OUCH!" she shouted because at the end of her statement a rock hit the back of her head. It skidded off as she fell to the ground.

Edward ran over to her, "Holy crap, are you alright?" he asked her.

She stood up slowly and shakily, clutching the back of her head, "I'm alright." She pulled her hand away and there was blood on it.

Ed's eyes widened, "No, no your not. We need to get you to a hospital," he tried to grab her but she shook her head.

"There's none around," she said, "It's just a flesh wound. I'll just rub some snow into it and it'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I've had a lot worse, trust me," said Violet, she picked up the bloody cement off the ground and tucked it into her coat pocket.

Edward looked in the direction the rock had been thrown from, "What the hell is wrong with these people? That rock could have killed you!"

Violet sighed, "Don't blame them, it's not their fault-"

"To hell it isn't!" exclaimed Edward, "People have to take responsibility for their own actions."

Violet sighed and started walking again, fiddling with her little cross pendant and empty finder she had tucked away under her shirt, "I guess..."

It took Edward a moment to realize she had walked away, "Hey, wait up!" he exclaimed, running until he was walking beside her. He noticed her necklace. "I don't understand you."

She looked at him, "What do you mean?"

"Well..." Edward scratched his head, "How can you be raised here- by an alchemist, and still believe in god?"

Her answer was incredibly simple, but to her, it was an obvious question, "Why not?"

So simple, in fact, that it took Edward aback, for he was expecting something much more complex, "The- the church hates you! People use god as an excuse to throw rocks at you!"

Violet rested her hands on the back of her neck, "Human will always look for something to justify their hate, just as light can come from darkness, darkness can come from light. Alchemists treat people who believe in god like fools."  
>"A fool is better than a devil," remarked Edward with a derisive snort.<p>

"How about a brainwashed, homicidal, deluded retard?" asked Violet wryly.

"No one would call-"

"I was called that, by my father for believing in god despite what I'd been told. He said the definition of a retard was who could be taught the same lesson a thousand times and never learn it. The church taught me that god hated me every day, so I was a retard for not learning it," she stopped walking and wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry-" began Edward.

"Ah," she shrugged with a smile, "the only thing I don't understand is that if were all going to hell anyway why can't they try and get along with us while were on earth?"

Edward laughed, "You're a strange girl, Violet, I've never met someone like you before."

"I'll choose to believe that was a complement.." There was an awkward pause, "By the way, you never answered my question before... Why me?"

Edward scratched his neck, "Uhh, the truth?"

Before Edward had a chance to spill his guts out, a bullet was fired at him. Violet was quick to pull him out of the way the moment she'd heard the initial click.

"Bullets?" exclaimed Edward, "how badly do these people want you dead?"

Violet scanned around for the source of the shot, holding Edward protectively behind her. She saw something horrible.

Her father stepped over the debris of fallen buildings, his disheveled black hair covering the more broken side of his glasses. He was still in his uniform from the Ishbalen civil war, as charred and stained as it might be. To Violet, it was like a nightmare.

"Hello, Violet, it's been a long time," he said smoothly.

"D—dad?" Violet stumbled backwards as he stepped closer.

Sensing her fear, Edward stepped out in front of her, "Leave the girl alone!"

Without a second of hesitation, Violet's father grabbed Edward and put his gun to his head, grinning he looked at Violet, "Who's your little friend?"

"He-he's no one!"

As Violet and her father talked Edward thought quickly. Violet's father had his arms locked to his sides.

_So,_ he thought,_ I'll have to improvise. _He bit Violet's father's arm hard, the second he loosed his grip enough for him to get his arms free he pressed his hands together and clapped them to the gun barrel, transmutating it into a twisted trumpet. It was not not a second to soon, for as he did that Violet's father pulled the trigger and the bullet got trapped in the chamber, making the blast of the gunpowder concentrated. As he dropped the gun in shock, Edward ripped away and transmutated a spear out of some of the rubble.

For a moment, Violet's father seemed startled, but then, he laughed, "So your the state alchemist I presume."

"What's the matter?" Ed asked with a smug smile, "You sound disappointed."

He was still laughing, "No, no," he said breathlessly, "I was just expecting someone taller."

Edward's eyes widened, livid with anger he attacked him.

"Uh-uh," he wagged his finger before pressing his palms together, then to the road. Giant iron spikes shot out all around Ed, he nimbly avoided.

Violet stood on the side lines, to afraid to move or speak, her hands trembling. _Edward's a state-_

"Your going to have to better than that!" Edward shouted suddenly, his body going into it's pumped, adrenaline filled state it always did when he was in a fight. He barreled around more of Violet's father's spikes whilst charging at him with his spear, until instantly, his right arm locked up.

_What the hell...? _thought Edward.

Violet's father grabbed him by his throat, his spear dropped to the ground. Ed attempted a kick, but he squeezed his throat so hard the pain coursing through him was enough to defeat the attempt.

"Attack me one more time, kid, and I'll break your neck," he said to him with a vicious look in his eyes. Then he turned to his daughter, "Now, dear, your mother took something very important form me, the philosopher's stone, what did she do to it?" he squeezed Ed's neck again, he cried out in pain.

"I don't know what your talking about!" Violet cried desperately.

"Liar! Where is it?" he squeezed Ed's neck harder than before.

He screamed, then lowered his voice, hoping to mask the trembling, "You filthy bastard."

"You know you aren't much an alchemist and if your little friend here tries to move," he glanced at Edward, squeezing his throat so hard he nearly bled, "I'll snap his neck like a twig, but you can save him if you want, just tell me where the philosopher's stone is," he squeezed Ed's neck again.

"Stop it, you'll kill him!" screamed Violet.

"Just tell me what I want to know."

Violet looked at Edward, choking and was overcome by emotion. Before she had a moment to second guess herself, she threw her gloves off and pressed her hands together, "Let him go!" She pressed her hands to the gravel, the light from her palms shot like a lightning bolt to the patch of dirt between her father and where he pinned Ed. It expanded and the side by her father burst, propelling him backward, shredding the front of his uniform and throwing his glasses off.

He landed at Violet's feet, she looked down at him with an expression that bore no anger, fear or hate, only pity. She then stepped over him and went to Ed.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded gently and stood up, rubbing his throat with his working hand, "I think so."

Nicolas Flamel, the quickdraw alchemist, lay on the ground, thinking of the way his daughter, his little girl looked at him. _My daughter, the retarded child I raised, looking down on me... _he looked at Edward, _What did that little bastard tell her? How I really lost my arm? _And with that thought all the anger and hatred he felt bubbled to the surface.

"Damn you you little military bastard!" he lunged at Edward, "I'll kill you!"

Violet was just pulling on her glove during her father's attack. Out of pure instinct she grabbed his bare arm-with the hand she had not yet finished pulling her glove onto. Only a single centimeter of her palm was exposed, but that was enough.

Violet's eyes widened in horror when she saw the transmutation light,_ No, what have I done? _

All the blood in her father's body transmutated into iron, expanding until it burst out of his skin like spikes, then exploded back to blood. As she let the grotesquely maimed body fall to the ground she collapsed to her own knees and wept, "This doesn't even make any sense! Why? Why does this always happen?"

Edward reached his hand to put it on her shoulder. She jerked away before he had the chance.

"Don't touch me! Don't _ever_ touch me!" she shouted at him, jerking her glove on.

"I'm sorry-" said Edward.

Violet blinked, then shook her head, "It's not your fault," she wrung her hands and looked at Edward, smiling wryly, "I've got a lot to tell you."

"So do I. A lot to tell_ you_, I mean," Edward bowed his head.

"So get Al and meet at the house in a half an hour," said Violet.

"A-and leave you all alone with the body? What if someone sees you?" said Edward.

"No one comes into this part of town."

"Oh?" questioned Edward, "What about that jerk who threw a rock at you?"

Violet scratched behind her ear, "Yeah, well, if my father's here I don't think they'll be talking about it."

Edward's eyes widened, he ran off to get Alphonse.

Violet looked upon her dead father's face.

She was right about the person who had thrown the rock though. They wouldn't be talking about it, now or ever. The truly sad thing was, the rock wasn't even intended for her, but rather for Edward. For the lady who threw it was a young Vanessa Hawkins. Who had become the priest's assistant to escape her abusive father, only to be abused again. She had long forgotten that original name, she was number 3 in her deathbed, a truly sad thing. She lay between two buildings, hair drenched in blood and a bullet hole in the side of her head. Her eyes wide open but lifeless, another chunk of rubble in her right hand.

Violet ran straight home and took the sheet from her bed and ran back. She laid the sheet on the ground and dragged the mangled body onto it, folding the sides over to cover him. Another girl would have had major issue with this morbid task, but it was in her blood to be able to deal with this. Without a word she lifted the bloody bundle and carried it back to her yard, struggling not to slip on the ice. Finally, she laid it down on the burn pile, throwing wood scraps from the yard on top, breaking larger pieces of wood on her knee.

When she'd piled it so high that the fabric covering the body could no longer be seen she dowsed the whole thing with gasoline. Then pulled a small box of matches from her pocket and lit one.

She pressed her hands together and said a little prayer for the lost soul, and tossed it on the pile. It went up instantly. She watched, the flames glistening in her pupils. _Let's hope this is the last time I ever have to do this..._


End file.
